


Best Laid Plans

by BadHairDay



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Porn, Whoops where did it go, slightly AU, starts with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:18:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadHairDay/pseuds/BadHairDay
Summary: McCree is in the middle of a bank heist when he is rudely interruptedAltered. Was Junkrat/OC previously.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Tagged as slightly AU because McCree has both arms and Peacekeeper doesn't exist.

McCree worked his way through the twisted alley behind the bank, careful to avoid the towering piles of garbage. He had chosen this location specifically for its limited visibility, giving him plenty of places to hide and preventing him from being spotted from the street. He had been planning this heist for weeks. The building had two floors, with an office space on the top floor and the main vault and safety deposit boxes on the ground floor behind the teller’s desk at the back of the room. The manager’s office sat on the ground floor, next to the street entrance in the right hand corner of the room, across from the main stairwell. A fire escape provided him with easy access to the second floor. The blueprints were thankfully not too difficult to come by; but access had taken some dirty work.

 

He had tracked the movements of the security guards, finding they worked in shifts, trading off every 12 hours. Eventually he had followed one to a local bar, slipping him a rather vicious concoction of his own making. It was a heady cocktail of tranquilizers, painkillers, and aphrodisiacs that caused his victims to be loose and pliant, and extremely susceptible to suggestion. It also left them with only hazy partial memories and extremely good dreams. The guard was left to sleep it off in his car, fully believing he had just had the ride of his life. McCree’s plan was to slip in quietly, take out the guards (two upstairs making rounds together every fifteen minutes, another two on the main floor watching the entrance), and then crack the vault. He had pulled a similar honey pot trick on the bank manager, a stern looking woman with a weakness for southern accents. McCree had had a little more fun with that one before slipping her the drugs and coaxing the combination out of her.

 

Checking his watch, he noted that it was just past midnight. The guards would be starting their rounds in exactly 7 minutes. He tugged his hat down over his face and hoisted himself on top of a dumpster. Snagging the bottom platform of the fire escape, he scampered up the stairs effortlessly. Once at the top platform he pulled his lock picking kit out of his pants and got to work. A few seconds later he was easing the door open and creeping into the passage between the offices. He checked the time again, and stepped into one of the dark rooms. The guards would be opening the door any second, and he had to wait until he had a clear shot of both of them. Hiding behind a desk, he waited patiently. He had chosen this particular office because it was at the far end of the narrow hallway, right next to the fire exit, leaving the guards backs exposed as they left to finish their rounds.

 

The door cracked open, light from the hallway illuminating the office. Footsteps thumped closer, and he held his breath as they paused a few feet away from the desk he was under. As quickly as they had come, they retreated back towards the door. He heard the guards chuckling to each other and listened as their voices moved back down the corridor. He freed his gun from its holster and attached the suppressor. Stepping out the door he crept closer to the guards, firing two quick shots into the backs of their heads. He winced at the thuds their bodies made; hoping the guards downstairs hadn’t noticed anything.

 

Continuing forwards, he moved down the stairs and peered around the corner of the wall. He spotted the first of the two guards sitting in the manager’s office reading a book, his back to McCree, but McCree couldn’t yet see the guard’s partner. A toilet flushed and he ducked back into the stairwell. The sounds of running water and the paper towel dispenser could be heard, before the bathroom door opened and the guard stepped out. He waited until both guards had settled before taking them out.

 

After confirming it was clear, he put his gun away and walked to the safe, pulling the combination out of his pocket as he did so. The vault had a massive circular door that was at least two feet thick and had two handles on it that spun to release the locks, and a combination dial that kept the handles from being turned. McCree quickly spun the correct combination and heaved the handles, dragging the door open with considerate effort. Entering the vault he pulled out his lock picking kit again and got to work on the safety deposit boxes, quickly filling his bag with cash, gems, and anything else he could find. After another quick glance at his watch he saw that he had been there for almost 45 minutes. Dumping the last of the spoils into his bag he turned and left the vault, not bothering to close the door behind him. The bodies would be found in the morning anyways.

 

He was just making his way back towards the stairwell when the wall behind the teller station exploded inwards, chunks of debris narrowly missing him as he ducked behind the vault door just in time. “Ka-BOOM!” and enthusiastic voice roared. ‘Ah, shit.’ he cursed quietly, eyes searching for a secondary egress point.

 

“Oi, what the  _fuck_?” A rough, scratchy voice shrieked angrily. He heard a deep, slightly muffled response, but was unable to make out quite what it said. Cursing inwardly, he made a frantic dash towards the stairwell, but a shot rang out and a bullet smashed into the wall in front of him. He skidded to a halt and a hand grabbed his arm and yanked. He lashed out with an elbow. The blow connected and he heard a pained grunt before a strong arm snaked around his waist, spinning him around and pressing his back into the wall. A warm, shirtless body pressed against his, and the arm around McCree’ waist tightened. The hand still holding his arm was a prosthetic.

 

“What do we have here?” drawled the scratchy voice from before, an Australian accent now apparent. The man drew nearer still, giving McCree a little squeeze with his flesh arm and forcing him back further into the wall.

 

“You’re a feisty one, eh?” he said, smirking. McCree kept his face out of view and remained silent. The blonde was several inches taller than him and his lithe frame was caging McCree in. McCree looked towards the smoking hole in the wall and his eyes landed on his captor’s partner, who was quite possibly the most enormous man McCree had ever seen, easily 7 feet tall. His wide belly had a large tattoo of a pig and what looked like engine parts on it. A bandana covered his face and a short white ponytail stuck up from his head.

 

“So, what’re you doing at our heist?” the smaller one asked, ducking his head to properly see the cowboy’s face. McCree saw a hint of attraction flare in his captor’s eyes and quickly switched tactics. He let his body relax and deepened his voice to a sultry drawl.

 

“ _Your_  heist? I was here first, darlin’.” he purred, sweeping his eyes over the two of them. He pressed forwards against the shirtless man, smirking.

 

“Now let me go sugar, we gotta dart before the police show up.”

 

The blonde one took a small step back, surprise flickering across his face as McCree shifted against him, deliberately brushing their hips together. His hold loosened just enough that McCree could pull himself free, and he hoisted his bag over his shoulder.

 

McCree could hear sirens getting closer, and he ducked out into the street and started jogging away from the building. The other men followed closely behind him, calling for him to wait. A repetitive clanking noise caught his attention, and he looked behind him to see that the skinny one had a metal leg to go with his arm. ‘Damn, Blondie’ he thought to himself, impressed, ‘you and Big Guy keep up pretty well.’ They kept their pace for about a block or so, before he was tugged sharply into another alleyway.

 

“Get in, mate!” He barely glimpsed a massive motorcycle before he was unceremoniously dumped into the attached sidecar, Blondie hopping in after him. The big guy jumped onto the bike, starting in up and peeling out of the alley at breakneck speed.

 

He whooped with laughter and heard Blondie’s echoing cackle over the rush of the wind. He even thought he heard muffled laughter coming from Big Guy. They turned sharply through a network of alleyways before coming to stop at a loading bay behind a rundown old industrial building. They rushed inside, slamming the door behind them.

 

“Thanks for the getaway car.” McCree remarked, tipping his hat back. Blondie beamed at him; Big Guy chimed in with a grunt.

 

McCree noticed the Australian man’s gaze sweep over him. McCree was fairly tall, standing around 6’, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. He had a straight nose and a square jaw, which was nicely balanced with high, sharp cheekbones. His messy hair was a little windswept from the ride and his brown eyes gleamed with mischief.

 

“No problem mate,” Blondie said, still smiling.

 

“You got a name Blondie? Big Guy?” His eyes flicked between the two of them.

 

“Junkrat”, said Blondie, “an’ this here’s Roadhog” Roadhog grunted an affirmative.

 

“McCree.” He said, holding a hand out to shake.

 

“You need to stay here til things cool off?” Junkrat asked, “We got a spare room, it’s over there. Bathroom’s that way, that’s my room, Roadie’s room, kitchen, workshop…” he rambled eagerly, rapidly pointing in all directions.

 

 “Thanks for the offer, but I have my own safe house to be getting back to…” As he was speaking, multiple police cars drove by, sirens blaring, followed closely by what sounded like a helicopter.

 

“Shit.” He stated bluntly. “Maybe I’ll take that spare room after all”

 

It turned out his impromptu partners in crime were remarkably easy to get along with. The blonde one was a real firecracker. McCree dropped his bag in the room Junkrat had pointed out to him. He couldn’t wait to see if he could get under the pyromaniacs skin. Before leaving the room he made sure that he secured his bag tightly.

 

He returned to the main area and found the men slapping together an odd sort of breakfast.

 

“Thanks for letting me crash here fellas. Need any help?”

 

“Nah, it’s done. Just grab a plate. They’re over there.” Roadhog rumbled.

 

“Thanks”

 

He grunted.

 

They finished up their breakfast with some friendly banter, and decided to crash for a while, seeing as how none of them had slept since the night before.

 

When McCree awoke he double checked that his bag was still where he had stashed it. Satisfied, he left the spare room in search of the others. Loud clanging and swearing could be heard from the workshop Junkrat had pointed out before, and he made his way over to investigate. He saw Junkrat sitting on a stool, cursing at his mechanical arm, which was sitting on the workbench in front of him surrounded by wires and chunks of scrap.

 

“Where’s Roadhog?” McCree inquired.

 

“He’s out picking up some more things for the workshop. Bike parts, weapons parts, bomb parts, limb parts, the works.”

 

McCree hummed in response, leaning a hip on the workbench, bringing him closer to the taller man. He noticed that his host was still shirtless. He watched Junkrat tinker for a while, before growing slightly restless.

 

“So,” McCree spoke, catching the other mans eyes, “what d’y’all for fun around here?”

 

It turned out his hosts had a ratty old pool table in one of the back rooms. They set it up to play after Junkrat reattached his arm, and McCree quickly devised a strategy to tease the blonde.

 

 “You break,” he said, making sure to brush Junkrat’s hand with his own as he passed him the cue ball. The taller man’s gaze snapped to his, and he did his best to look innocent. As he turned away, McCree thought he saw a hint of desire in the other man’s amber eyes, but wasn’t sure. He made it his mission to find out. When it was his turn to line up his shot, he tilted his hips and arched his back suggestively. He also made sure to brush against him every time he had to reposition himself for his turn, and kept his voice husky when they spoke.

 

About halfway through the game McCree asked what Junkrat’s real name was.

 

“S’ Jamison.” The fair-haired man replied. The desire in his eyes was obvious now, though a little muted, as though he was trying to conceal it.

 

“ _Jamison_.” McCree repeated, being sure to caress the name with his tongue. Lust flashed hot through Jamison’s eyes, turning them molten amber and giving away just how much he had been holding back. “D’ya mind if I call you that? Or do you prefer Junkrat?” the cowboy asked.

 

“Jamison’s fine.” Came the husky reply.

 

McCree hummed. “Jesse.” He said lowly, leaning in a little closer, tilting his head up a little to meet Jamison’s gaze. He licked his lips and Jamison’s eyes flicked down, the fire in them growing a little hotter. The temperature of the room seemed to climb as he slowly stepped towards Jesse, backing him into the pool table, arms resting on the edge to cage him in. Jesse tipped his head back slightly and parted his lips in anticipation, hearing Jamison’s breath catch.

 

Suddenly they heard the roar of a motorcycle and the sound of the bay door opening. Jamison blinked and seemed to come back to himself, and Jesse slid away from him, brushing a kiss to his cheek, smiling mischievously.

 

 

 

 

Things had quieted down the following day, and by the time night fell the police presence had lifted enough for Jesse to be able to make his way back to his own safe house. He hadn’t had the opportunity to catch Jamison alone since their pool game, but they shared heated glances on more than one occasion. Before he left he made sure to thank the two men for their hospitality, slipping the address of his safe house into Jamison’s pocket.

 

“In case you ever need the favour returned, darlin’.” he said with a slight smile, eyes lingering on Jamison’s lips before flicking up to meet his gaze. He stepped away and walked to the door, throwing a last smile over his shoulder. “My door is always open to y’all. Thanks again for letting me stay.”

 

 

Jesse slipped into his apartment quietly, stashing the bag in a safe he kept hidden behind a false panel in the bedroom closet. It would be a while before he could safely fence the valuables, and the cash would have to be deposited in small, inconspicuous increments.

 

It was another week before he saw Jamison, but it was a welcome sight when he opened his door to find the shirtless blonde standing there, looking a little roughed up and sporting a black eye and a split lip.

 

“I was in the neighborhood,” the Australian drawled, “thought I’d drop in.”

 

Jesse laughed and invited him inside, before leading him to the bathroom to help clean up his injuries, kneeling in front of him with a damp cloth.

 

“So what happened?” Jesse inquired.

 

“Couple drongos tried to take my treasure. Left ‘em in an alley somewhere with a little gift.” Jamison said, smirking. His eyes flared a little as Jesse dabbed his bleeding lip with the cloth, brushing Jamison’s jaw with his other hand.

 

“Mind if I call in that favour? Crash here tonight?” the blonde asked softly, meeting Jesse’s gaze and leaning in a little.

 

“Like I said, sugar, doors open any time” Jesse replied, voice husky. His eyes dropped down to Jamison’s lips briefly.

 

The two men stared at each other, gazes hot, until Jamison’s arm shot out and he yanked Jesse to him, devouring his mouth and catching the shorter mans bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away. Jesse stood up, dropping the cloth and leading the Australian out of the bathroom and down the hall to his bedroom, stopping a few times when Jamison shoved him against the wall, stealing filthy kisses.

 

They finally reached their destination and Jesse pushed Jamison backwards until he fell onto the bed, climbing on top of him and pinning his hands above his head.

 

“I don’t think so, handsome” he purred, pushing Jamison back down when the pyromaniac tried to flip them. “I want to see you laid out for me”

 

He leaned down and bit the junction of Jamison’s neck and shoulder, causing the blonde to close his eyes and groan in pleasure. There was a faint clicking noise accompanied by pressure on his flesh wrist, and Jamison realized that Jesse had cuffed him to the bed while he was distracted.

 

“Oh, fuck” he gasped, more turned on by the second.

 

He was completely at Jesse’s mercy. Jesse responded with a filthy smirk and a sharp nip to Jamison’s collarbone. He sat up, stripping off his own shirt quickly, before leaning back down to capture the firecracker’s mouth in a demanding kiss, chests brushing. Slowly, torturously, he ran his hands down Jamison’s chest, thumbs catching his nipples, and then over his abs, reaching his belt buckle. He slid his hands back up just as the blonde’s breath caught, tangling them in his hair and tugging. Jamison moaned again, pulling at the handcuffs, his mouth falling open a little. Jesse took advantage and deepened the kiss, causing Jamison to arch up into him.

 

“Wanna touch you” Jamison pleaded when they broke apart for air. Jesse hummed his approval, but didn’t move to undo the cuffs. He moved down Jamison’s body, sucking, biting, kissing, licking, and blowing on his skin, driving him wild.

 

“ _Fuck_.” The blonde groaned when Jesse reached his belt buckle again, this time sliding a hand past it and cupping him, just enough to tease, before removing his hand once again and working his belt open. Jesse unbuttoned Jamison’s shorts and pulled them down over his hips, chuckling slightly when he revealed only bare flesh. Jamison hissed as his cock was exposed to the cool air, whining when Jesse deliberately avoided the sensitive flesh, moving instead to nip his thighs.

 

“Un… c‘mon mate –  _ahh_ ” he broke off with a startled moan as Jesse suddenly licked a long stripe up his shaft, swirling his tongue around the head. Jesse kept his pace slow, with light touches and small licks until Jamison was writhing in pleasure, chanting Jesse’s name. Finally, Jesse took Jamison’s cock into his mouth, taking as much of as he could, letting it hit the back of his throat and humming around it. Jamison was thrusting shallowly, and Jesse pinned his hips down with strong hands, glancing up to see Jamison’s head thrown back in pleasure, his hands grasping the bed frame above the cuffs. His back was arched, whole body straining towards Jesse in a silent plea for more.

 

Jesse reached into his bedside table and snagged the lube he kept there, slicking his fingers and slowly working one into Jamison, thrusting in time with his mouth. He released Jamison’s cock with a soft pop, dragging his tongue along Jamison’s abs, shifting up to capture his mouth again, swallowing his moans. He continued to prep Jamison, patiently working more fingers into him until Jamison was practically begging in broken little sentences.

 

“C’mon mate –  _ah_  – ‘m ready, stop  _teasing_. Fuck -  _please_ ”

 

Jesse removed his fingers, kicked off his pants, slicked up his cock and entered Jamison in one smooth thrust. Jamison shouted in pleasure, arching off the bed. Jesse panted above him, waiting for the blonde’s body to adjust to the intrusion. Jamison growled at him to move, and Jesse obliged, fucking him with long, smooth strokes. He shifted again, reaching to undo the handcuffs trapping Jamison. He released his wrists and flipped them so Jamison was straddling him, cock pushing deeper into Jamison’s pliant body, hitting the sweet spot inside of him, causing him to clench around Jesse. They both moaned at the sensations. Jamison started fucking himself down on Jesse’s dick and Jesse met him thrust for thrust.

 

“Not gonna last.” Jamison panted, slowing a little.

 

Jesse flipped them again, lifting Jamison’s legs to wrap around his hips, metal digging into flesh. He leaned up and pulled the blonde into a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He reached between them and grasped Jamison’s cock, stroking him to completion.

 

“Oh,  _fuck_  –” Jamison shouted as he came, body clamping down around Jesse, triggering his release. Jesse shuddered, thrusting deep and moaning Jamison’s name as he came hard. He tipped forward, capturing the lean blondes lips again as he pulled out gently. Jesse swiftly wiped them both down with a corner of the sheets, and dropped down next to Jamison, pulling him into his chest.

 

 

Jesse awoke a few hours later to the feeling of lips against his neck. They had turned in their sleep so the taller blonde was now spooned up behind Jesse, running his hands from hip to chest and back again. Jesse arched backwards into him, moaning a little. He heard Jamison huff a laugh, and felt the other man nip him on the shoulder. He pressed tightly back against Jamison, who met him halfway, rolling his hips a little. The Australian reached down with his flesh hand to palm Jesse’s rapidly awakening cock, stroking him to full hardness before shifting to sit up, pulling Jesse with him so that he was still behind the shorter man.

 

Jamison snatched the lube from where they had left in on the bed, pushing Jesse forward so his hands pressed against the headboard, before working him open with his fingers. Jesse was a panting mess within minutes, pushing himself back onto Jamison’s fingers. Jamison replaced his fingers with his cock, thrusting shallowly at first to let the smaller man adjust to his size. Finally Jesse started rhythmically clenching down on Jamison’s cock, trying to pull the larger man deeper inside of him.

Jamison sat back on his knees, dragging Jesse with him into his lap, pulling him so his chest was flush with Jesse’s back. He caught Jesse’s hips in a bruising grip, nailing Jesse’s prostate with every slow roll of his hips. Jesse reached back and tangled his fingers in Jamison’s unruly hair, dragging him down into a sloppy open mouthed kiss. Jamison pulled away slightly when they broke apart for air,

 

“It’s my turn to make you beg,” he growled, pressing a biting kiss into the column of Jesse’s neck. Jesse groaned sharply, trying to press back further into the Australian, but the strong grip on his hips prevented it.

 

A few minutes later, Jesse was almost incoherent with pleasure, shamelessly pleading for more, clinging to any part of the blonde that he could reach. Jamison was more than happy to oblige, increasing the speed and force of his thrusts. He reached around and grasped Jesse’s cock, bringing him off with a few firm strokes, grinning into his neck and murmuring filthy encouragements into his ear before his own climax hit him, cutting his words off with a ragged moan.

They used a different corner the sheet to clean themselves before drifting off to sleep once again, sweaty and sated, with promises of a shower in the morning.


End file.
